Paul.
It’s been a little over 6 months since you died. My brain doesn’t always make the connection to the dates, but my body does. I find myself feeling really off and then I remember, I remember you are not here anymore.
Then I dance around my feelings. I do whatever I can to avoid the inevitable sadness that has been so present since you passed. It’s always there. Lurking around every corner, every thought. I didn’t know I would miss you so much. I didn’t know I would feel so sad. I didn’t even really know how much I loved you. But loved you I did, I sure did.
Now I try and find ways to go on, but something has irrevocably changed and my old ways of existing, do not work anymore. Something is gone from me, you. I liken it to losing a limb. Though you can feel it, you know it’s not there, and you have to find a new way to manage without it. I get mad that this is my new way, in fact, I get furious. Why you? Of all the lights in the world, why you.
The holidays feel poignant. I didn’t usually celebrate them with you, but we always talked on the phone. The thing that really emphasized this loss, this grief, was talking to all the other siblings about what to get Mom and Dad for Christmas, and your voice was not there. My knees buckled. My heart broke. I ran as fast and furious as I could from these feelings, but they always catch me in the end. I know enough by now that I should just sit and feel what I am feeling, that it doesn’t last forever, but it hurts so intensely that I don’t want to feel it. It’s so fucking painful. When I can’t run anymore, when the anxiety has become so strong I can’t breathe, I sit with it. I ask for help. From you, from spirit, from anything or anyone that will listen. Please, help, please. Please help my heart stop breaking. Please!
I love you so much and I miss you even more.
Your sister,
Beth